


Grey Matter

by Sauffie



Category: Suits (TV), Suits (US TV)
Genre: I have no idea where this is going, M/M, This isn't a new one, but it feels good to post again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauffie/pseuds/Sauffie
Summary: The one where Harvey's a top neurosurgeon and Mike is a lawyer and a dad.They meet one night, not knowing they will meet again under very, very different circumstances.
Relationships: Marvey - Relationship, Mike Ross & Harvey Specter, Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Mike

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I have written this years ago and I've already written 3 huge chapters. I really want/need to write again so I'm posting this as a challenge, because it means I need to continue writing. I really, really hope I can do this and I apologize in advance if I fail to finish or even continue writing it. I'm crossing fingers and toes here and I hope you like it.

Mike grumbles before rolling on his back and reaching over for the phone buzzing under the pillow on the other side of the bed. He knows he should open his eyes and get up because he’s got a long day ahead of him but he can’t. Not just now. His back is stiff and sore from having spent most of the night bent in half over the coffee table where books and files still lay in the living room, so he could really use a couple more hours of sleep. However, sleep will have to wait because he still has a lot of work to do on his ongoing case. And trial’s tomorrow.

With a sigh, he sits up on the bed and rubs his eyes. They’re warm and dry and he doesn’t have to check in the mirror to know there are dark circles under them. It’s been a long, exhausting week, or rather three days because it’s only Thursday and maybe, just maybe, if things go well in court tomorrow, he’ll be able to catch up on sleep this weekend. If things go well with his trial and if Evan lets him sleep in, the latter being a lot less realistic than the former.

Evan is a lively, overactive, chatty little boy who became the center of Mike’s world on a cold winter’s night 5 years ago. Rachel and Mike were having a quiet dinner at home and the movie credits had just started to roll when she turned to him and made that face. Mike will never forget it: her eyes were huge with both surprise and fear and her mouth was hanging open. He knew what was up instantly and, after 9 months of reading and training, they were more than ready so they engaged in their planned routine. Rachel took a long, warm bath while Mike called her parents, his Grammy and emailed his boss. They drove to the clinic in complete silence, the both of them being far too excited and too nervous to talk.

When Mike finally held Evan in his arms, after a failed attempt at natural birth which turned into an emergency c-section, he knew his life would be changed forever. He knew that this warm little bundle of joy with sticky and curly brown hair and a plushy tiny mouth was the most important thing he would ever accomplish.

Things didn’t go exactly as planned afterwards, though, as 4 years after Evan’s birth, almost to the date, he was sitting with his lawyer in Robert’s Zane wood-paneled office to finalize his divorce from Rachel.

When Rachel told him she wanted out, he wasn’t surprised. Their relationship had been rocky from the get go and Evan’s arrival didn’t help much. Rachel was, still is, very controlling, she likes to decide, to make plans and anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t follow her plans either leaves or is left behind. Mike loved her, with all his heart, he loved that aspect of her, her drive, her determination, he used to think it fit well with his general laid-back attitude, his natural optimism, he used to think they completed each other. Until he realized that they didn’t, that while he was willing to do a lot of things for her, to follow her lead even when he didn’t particularly agree with her, she didn’t accept any aspect of his personality, kept criticizing his every move. She once told him that she had made a mistake, that he had disappointed her, that she thought he was more hands-on, less carefree, or at least that he would grow up and become a man. That hurt like a bitch, Mike remembers. But there was nothing he could do or say that was ever remotely enough. He wasn’t home enough, didn’t make enough money, didn’t try to fit in her family hard enough, didn’t dress well enough… Obviously she had grown up since the day they ran into each other in the file room on Mike’s first day at Pearson Hardman. Yeah, she had turned into her mother, who never approved of Mike. And once he realized that, he knew their marriage was over.

But he kept his mouth shut and spent more time at the office, even if that meant less time with Evan, because he couldn’t keep the charade up at home. On the weekends, he would propose activities he knew Rachel wouldn’t participate in so that he could spend time alone with his son while secretly wondering when the hammer would fall down on him. He knew he was being a coward, but as long his son was happy (or seemed happy), he was willing to put up with being unhappy himself.

The hammer fell on a rainy September night. Mike came home from work around 10, drained from a long day, ready to spend at least a half hour fighting with Rachel because that was all they did anymore at the time. But there was no shouting match this time, no reproach, no time to speak for Mike. Rachel was standing in the living room, holding a sleeping pajama-clad Evan in her arms and when Mike opened his mouth to speak, she cut him sharp and mean with a “We’re leaving. For good. We’ll be at my parents. You can come anytime if you need to see your son”. Then the doorbell rang and Mike, still reeling from the shock, opened the door and let a man, who he knew to be Robert Zane’s driver, in. He watched, frozen in place, as the man grabbed two large suitcases and disappeared in the corridor. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer” were Rachel’s last words that night.

Mike fought, he really did. Tooth and nails. For more than a year. He almost got fired because he got so distracted with the divorce battle that it was starting to show in his performance. He lost a lot in that battle: a great deal of money (divorce lawyers are sharks), respect in the woman he had vowed to love until death did them part, most of their friends… and custody of his son. There was no way he could compete with a paralegal in the schedule/free time department, Rachel was the poster-child for the poor abandoned wife married to a busy Manhattan attorney. He didn’t stand a chance against Robert Zane, the man was New-York’s most feared lawyer. His whole life got exposed in court, every little thing he ever did got discussed and turned against him. The death of his parents for example, which Robert managed to use to prove that he couldn’t take care of a child since he didn’t grow up in a typical family. His sexual orientation even, and apparently being bi-sexual proves that you’re a lesser human being. His best friend Trevor’s arrest for drug possession from years ago. His Grammy was even called to the stand and they managed to turn her testimony against Mike. Everything. And in the end he lost. He emptied his bank account to buy Rachel out of the apartment he loved so much and she got full custody of Evan, leaving Mike with a weekend every two weeks and 3 full weeks during the year.

Getting over Rachel was easy. She wasn’t his wife anymore, she wasn’t the sweet girl he had met years ago. They had drifted apart for some time already, not having to see her everyday actually was a relief. But he had a harder time overcoming the general sadness and feeling of unfairness the divorce left him with. Being who he is helped tremendously. His good nature won over the bitterness and he finally accepted the verdict, deciding to stop fighting so he could get on with his life, so Evan could stop watching his parents rip each other to shreds, so his little boy could grow up feeling loved and not like just some kind of grand prize.

Rachel and him have been divorced for 6 months now and Mike’s still adjusting. He misses his son so much it physically hurts sometimes but on the bright side, using his rage as fuel just got him a new title: junior partner. That of course means even more hours, more pressure (and an amazing assistant), but it’s not like he’s got a lot going on besides work anyway.

His first case as junior partner is being tried tomorrow and today’s his last day to make sure his client is ready, to rehearse his strategy and to prep the witnesses. It’s going to be a long day, he thinks as he cracks his neck, drags himself out of bed and walks to the bathroom.

“Morning, Mr. Ross!”, Amy, his assistant welcomes him as he approaches his office about two hours later.

“Please, call me Mike”, Mike smiles. He’s been trying to convince her for three weeks now. “You’re in early.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d need me early considering the importance of today’s work.”, Amy smiles knowingly.

“Thank you.”, Mike smiles back and walks in his office.

If it all goes well tomorrow, it will be his first win as junior partner, the first case he handled on his own. A huge step. And winning it will also mean a work-free weekend with his son he hasn’t seen in two weeks. A win-win really.

“Mr. Ross?”, Amy calls from her cubicle, a hand on the receiver. “I’ve got your ex-wife on the phone.”, she whispers and makes a disgusted face. Mike told her about Rachel when she asked about Evan’s picture on his desk.

Rachel calling is never good news. They usually don’t call each other, they text. They don’t talk much, only when strictly necessary and when a text can’t do the trick. It’s not Mike’s decision, of course he would rather have a healthy relationship with the mother of his son, but Rachel apparently doesn’t mind the constant tension.

“Put her through”, Mike sighs. Why does she insist on calling his office instead of his cell phone anyway? “Rachel”, he says upon picking up.

“Hey, look, I’m going away for the weekend today so Evan will be staying with my parents tonight and tomorrow until you come pick him up”, Rachel announces without further introduction.

“Okay”, Mike replies. “Is that all?”, he asks because this could have easily been explained in a text message.

“No. I was wondering if Evan could stay with-“, she begins to ask and Mike hears his son in the background. “Hold on. Yes, you can rinse now. Wash your face, I’ll be right there, okay honey?”, she says fondly, a tone she hasn’t used with Mike in years. He had almost completely forgotten how nice she could be. “Sorry about that”, she says, immediately back to her cold self. “Yeah, so I was wondering if he could stay with you on Monday too? I might need to stay an extra day.”

“Need?”, Mike huffs. “Is this for work?”

“Why do you care? I seem to recall you complaining that you didn’t get to spend as much time with him as you’d like”, she retorts.

Mike rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. As if the court order wasn’t to blame for that. As if he didn’t have the right to complain. Maybe it’s better that they don’t talk because if that’s how every conversation would go, they better stick to text messages.

“Of course he can stay with me”, he replies after a moment.

“If that’s a problem, you can drive him back to my parents on Sunday. I just need someone to take him to school on Monday morning.”

“I said yes, Rachel.”

“Alright”, she says. “I’ll be there to pick him up from school on Monday.”

“Can I talk to him for a minute?”, Mike asks, even though he’s pretty sure she’s going to refuse.

His request is met with a long and exaggeratedly loud sigh.

“Fine”, she eventually replies. “Just a minute, we’re already late. Evan! Honey! Come talk to Daddy!”

“Thanks.”, Mike says even if he knows she’s not listening anymore.

“Daddy!!”, Evan squeals.

“Hey buddy, how are you?”

“I’m good! You?”

“I’m perfect, thank you”, Mike replies with a huge smile he can’t contain. Hearing his son’s voice is the best thing that’s happened to him in 4 days. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too!”, Evan agrees enthusiastically. “Can we have pizza for dinner? Can we watch Harry Potter again?”

“We’ll see, okay?”, Mike chuckles. “Now go get ready and be a good boy.”

“Yes daddy!”

“Love you, buddy.”

“Love you too! Bye!”

The call gets disconnected barely two seconds after Evan’s goodbye and Mike smiles sadly at the receiver before putting it back on its base. In the year he spent fighting against her and in the 6 months that have passed since the divorce was finalized, he’s learned to put up with Rachel’s indifference, with her temper and bad manners. He’s learned to keep his cool and not react. Because getting angry makes it even harder, it doesn’t help and it doesn’t do any good. Besides, he got to speak to Evan and that more than makes up for Rachel’s cold behavior. Sometimes, he wonders what made him fall in love with her in the first place, if he could have seen it coming. But then again, if he hadn’t married Rachel, his precious son wouldn’t have been born… that’s always his conclusion when he allows himself a moment of self-pity.

“Alright”, he exhales sharply and sits up straight on his chair. Right now, he needs to focus on his upcoming trial, he’ll worry about having to meet Rachel’s parents later.

“Knock, knock.”

Mike looks up from his computer and smiles gratefully at his former associate fellow, Katrina, who’s come to the rescue with what looks like a lunch bag from their favorite food cart.

“Hungry, Mr. Junior Partner?”, she smirks and walks to the small round meeting room table where she takes a seat and puts down their lunch.

“Thanks, Kat’”, Mike saves his work and joins her. “I can’t believe it’s already 2 in the afternoon…”

“How’s it going?”, she asks, handing him a wrapped bagel.

“I feel like I’m never going to be ready”, Mike replies and takes a sip from the straw cup she placed in front of him. “I… Technically, I am, I mean, I’ve done everything I was supposed to do… My witnesses seem ready, I’m still working on my closing argument but it should be ready soon, my client knows exactly what he has to say and yet I don’t feel one bit ready”, he giggles nervously.

“You’ll be just fine”, Katrina chuckles. “It’s okay to be nervous, but you can’t let it get to you. Use your stress as energy instead of letting it drag you down like an anchor. Stress can actually be helpful, you know?”

“Look at you now, Wonder Woman!”, Mike laughs. “They should have promoted you, not me. You seem more ready for the job than I am.”

“Don’t be silly”, she shakes her head with a smile. “You’re going to kick ass like you always do, just relax.”

Mike takes a bite of his bagel and exhales deeply. Easier said than done. He cannot screw this up, he cannot lose, not his first case as junior partner.

“Hey”, he swallows and marks a pause. “Would you like to be my second chair?”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I mean, you know everything about the case, you’ve helped me with the research and witness prepping. What do you think?”

Katrina’s dumbfounded expression turns into a large smile and she puts her bagel down before grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth.

“Okay”, she raises a playful eyebrow. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I will be your second chair, if Louis lets me go, and when we win, we go celebrate at that gay bar you said you wanted to try. Deal?”

“What bar? The one in Chelsea? I never said I wanted to try it!”, Mike objects. “You said you were going to take me there and I refused.”

“Oh, come on!”, Katrina rolls her eyes dramatically. “You need the distraction and you’re clearly not ready for a woman yet. So, deal?”

“Why the hell would you want to go to a gay bar anyway?”

“I love gay men! I get on well with them, look at us.”

“I’m not gay…”, Mike sighs.

“Yeah, I know, but you love men so...”, she shrugs. “Oh, come on! Please! We haven’t been out in ages!”

“I know and thanks for the tempting offer…”, he mocks. “… but I can’t go, it’s my weekend with Evan.”, he makes an apologetic face.

“Fine.”, Katrina pouts. “Next week?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know, all that stress is going to build and eat you up if you don’t let it out one way or another”, she holds up a hand. “You need to hook up, you need to get laid.”

“Right now, I need to finish my closing argument”, Mike deflects. “Thanks a lot for lunch”, he adds with a smile. “You still want to be my second chair, right?”

“Of course. But I need to check with Louis first”, Katrina collects the wrappings and puts them back in the brown bag. “I’ll come back later to go over everything with you one more time, okay?”

“Okay, see you later”, Mike grabs his soda and walks back to his desk.

He already feels a little better knowing Katrina will be sitting next to him in the courtroom tomorrow.

When he wakes up the next morning, he decides to settle for a glass of milk instead of a coffee because something tells him he doesn’t need the caffeine. He barely slept, kept imagining the trial, how it could play out, the options he had in case the jury didn’t side with him.

His client, Joshua Green, is the owner of a very successful company that collects and recycles old mobile phones and computer in order to, among other things, resell the valuable components such as gold, silver and cobalt. He hired Pearson Hardman to handle his legal affairs 4 years ago and became Mike’s first client since making junior partner a month ago. Joshua Green is a 60 year-old man with a great sense of humor and a knack for business, GreenTech is his fourth very successful company and probably the last he will build from scratch. He’s a bit old school but he’s an honest man. Sadly though, he’s facing charges for money embezzlement. According to his ex-business partner and brother David, he stole 9.8 million dollars from the company in its five-year existence. What David Green hadn’t expected when suing his brother is that Mike would manage to implicate him so now both brothers are facing the charges, and of course putting the blame on each other. Mike’s job today is to prove that Joshua had nothing to do with the disappearance of the money, which means putting all charges on David, charges that could lead him to spend up to 3 years in jail. That’s the tricky part because Joshua doesn’t want his brother to go to jail, and convincing him to testify against his own brother was actually harder than gathering the evidences Mike needed to prove his innocence (and David’s guilt). Mike knows there’s still a chance Joshua will back down and take a deal, or even take the blame, especially when sitting opposite to his brother in the courtroom. He knows there’s a chance the jury won’t side with them, because the public opinion usually doesn’t like rich CEOs and Joshua can come across as bossy and insensitive, but he’s prepared for that. If Joshua decides to make a deal or take the blame, he will find a way out. Now he just hopes it won’t go there.

Katrina meets him in front of the courthouse at 10 and Joshua Green joins them moments later. Since they’re early and Mike wants to avoid any confrontation with his brother before the beginning of the trial, he takes them to a nearby coffee shop.

Joshua hasn’t changed his mind, he’s still willing to defend himself, he doesn’t want to be called a thief when he didn’t do anything but Mike can see in his eyes that he’s not totally convinced that his brother did it.

They exchange pleasantries for a while, the three of them clearly looking to keep the pressure down, and eventually walk back to the courthouse.

Mike knew it, he hadn’t expected it to be a walk in the park, far from it. He knew David Green’s lawyer, Travis Tanner, would be a fierce opponent. But he wasn’t prepared for an excruciating 5-hour battle of arguments and witness cross-examination, a 5-hour war of words. Talk about a baptism of fire! When the jury finally retires to consider its verdict, it’s past 5 in the afternoon. He has no idea what the verdict will be, he’s done his best, used all of his well-rounded weapons, Katrina even helped, providing him with a few cleverly timed objections, but Travis Tanner’s strategy might also work. He’s just like Jessica Pearson warned him he would be: cocky and fearless. Plus, he seemed to know the judge and clearly made an impression on the jury.

And just like Mike knew he would, as soon as the members of the jury had left the room, Tanner came up with an offer, a really bad one. Fortunately, Joshua didn’t hesitate for a second and flat out rejected it. Mike didn’t have time to step in and ask for a moment to study the offer as apparently, hearing his brother, his lawyer and their witnesses talk shit about him for 5 hours killed any kind of apprehension Joshua still had.

Two hours pass and they’re still sitting in the coffee shop, waiting to be called back inside the courtroom. It’s never a good sign when the jury can’t reach a verdict within an hour but Mike doesn’t want to think about it right now. It’s 8pm and he’s nowhere near done with his day, he needs to call Rachel’s parents to let them know that he’ll be very late to pick up Evan.

“Please excuse me for a minute”, he says, getting up from his seat. “I need to make a quick call.”

Katrina nods with a smile and orders a new round of black coffees while Mike retreats to the men’s room.

“Hello?”

“Good evening Theresa, this is Mike”, he says courteously. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, thank you”, Theresa replies rather coldly, as expected. “I’m guessing you’re not going to pick up your son anytime soon, am I right?”

“I’m really sorry but the jury’s still out, we’re waiting for the verdict”, Mike explains, hoping she can understand given her husband’s job. “I won’t be able to make it before dinner time, hell, probably not before bedtime either, so could you give him a little something to eat and put him to bed, please? I’ll come pick him up as soon as I can.”

“And what time will that be?”

“I don’t know…”, Mike sighs. “I’m sorry, I really thought the trial would be over by now but it’s not and-“

“Right”, Theresa cuts him sharply. “Come pick him up tomorrow morning, then. No need to show up at our door at 10pm. I don’t want to have to wake my poor grandson once he’s asleep.”

Mike closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Oh, how he hates having to deal with Mr. and Mrs. Zane. It’s like they’re always trying to pick up a fight, always carefully choosing words they know will infuriate Mike, always making everything hard for him. He’s spent the day fighting in court, he’s got absolutely no energy left for another fight. And Theresa’s right, he might as well come pick Evan up tomorrow if he’s sleeping.

“Alright”, he says and swallows around the lump in his throat. “What time should I come tomorrow morning?”

“10 will be fine.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow then. Please tell Evan I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry”, she chuckles dryly. “It’s not like it’s the first time or even the last time you’ve disappointed him. But I’ll tell him. Bye now.”

“Bye”, Mike says through greeted teeth and quickly hangs up the phone. “Bitch!”, he yells.

Theresa never liked him, Mike never liked her either. But he always respected her, still does, for Evan’s sake and because that’s how his Grammy raised him. Sometimes he wonders what he did to deserve all this scorn, all this rage from both his ex-wife and her parents. Marriages fail, they almost always do, and it wasn’t because of Mike, or because of Rachel, it just didn’t work out. Now it’s over, he was hoping the heat would come down… Edith’s always nice to Rachel whenever they run into each other or when Rachel has to pick up Evan from her place. Even after everything she put her grandson and great-grandson through, she remains polite. Why Rachel’s parents can’t do the same is a mystery.

Mike splashes water on his face and takes a couple of deep soothing breath. He jumps when his phone rings and nods at his reflection in the mirror when he recognizes the caller ID: the jury’s ready to render a verdict.

They win.

Joshua Green is cleared of all charges and named sole owner of GreenTech. David Green, on the other hand, is found guilty of fraud, money embezzlement and removed from his position as co-owner. He is also sentenced to 6 months in prison and 3 years of probation as well as slapped with a 2 million dollar fine, more than what Mike requested.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Ross”, Joshua smiles gratefully as they shake hands outside the courthouse. He looks drained but also relieved.

“Thank you for trusting me”, Mike smiles back. “What happened in there was fair”, he nods confidently.

“I’ll ask Jessica for you to be my appointed lawyer, if you don’t mind”, the 60 year-old man offers.

“That will be my pleasure, Mr. Green. Now, go celebrate with your wife”, he smiles and gestures towards his client’s wife waiting a couple of feet away.

“Bye.”

Mike watches him walk away and finally allows himself a long, well-earned sigh.

“You were amazing”, Katrina says, poking his shoulder. “Seriously.”

“I don’t know about that…”, Mike blushes. “That Tanner bastard is a goddamn shark. He impressed me.”

“Yeah, he was good but he’s had years of practice”, Katrina agrees. “You? It was the first case you handled on your own, your very first time without Jessica and you impressed me.”

“Thanks.”, Mike smiles and takes a quick look at his watch. 8:45. “You still want to go out and celebrate?”, he asks.

“What about Evan?”, Katrina frowns.

“Long story short, I’m picking him up tomorrow”, he replies. “And right now I need a drink. I don’t want to go home.”

“Well in that case…”, she smirks. “… let’s go!!”, she grabs his hand and pulls on it just enough to make him trip on his feet. “Come on, let’s go celebrate!”

About an hour later, after a quick trip to Mike’s apartment so he could drop his briefcase and files and change into a fresh suit, and one to Katrina’s so she could do the same, their cab pulls over in front of a rather narrow brick-walled building.

“This is a swanky gay bar?”, Mike asks with a face. It looks nothing like Katrina described it.

She said the place was very exclusive, yet, in lieu of a golden plated revolving door stands a regular bar door. One wouldn’t even notice it was a bar if it wasn’t for the two flags baring the word “Therapy” floating on the façade. No bouncer, no valet, no visible sign of exclusiveness.

“Yes, it is”, she replies with an eyeroll. “Wait till you see the inside!”

She opens the door to a impressively large room and when he hears the typical lounge music and gets a quick look at the clientele, he can only agree with her: definitely selective. It feels like opening a cheap jewelry box and discovering a precious diamond-encrusted bracelet. The place is huge. It’s almost 10 and men in tailored suits or trendy “casual clothes” (as well as few women) are sitting at the bar or at one of the thousands wooden tables covering the ground floor and what Mike can see of the upper floor. The atmosphere is clean and chic but not overly so. While the lights are dim and provide intimacy, it’s still very lively and unpretentious.

Katrina spots a table and drags Mike by the arm to a corner next to the bar.

“I love this place”, she grins, opening the menu.

“I have to admit it’s better than I thought”, Mike concedes as he takes a seat across from her.

“Oh my god! Look at those cocktails!”, she laughs. “One of them is called Oral fixation! Oh, and this one’s called Freudian Sip!”

“Eww”, Mike wrinkles his nose. “Trashy.”

Katrina rolls her eyes and hands him the menu.

“You should order champagne, you earned it”, she states.

“I guess so”, Mike replies with a smile. “Champagne it is!”

A gorgeous man, Steve as he introduces himself to them, comes to take their order (glasses of champagne and two “therapy burgers”, the weird combo eliciting a discreet frown from the waiter), and Katrina makes a quick trip to the bathroom.

Mike takes this opportunity to get a proper look at the place. It’s got to be quite new or they’re really good at keeping it clean and shiny. The two long walls on each side of the room are covered with natural light wood panels and bear the bar’s name in large backlit silver capital letters. Most the customers are Mike’s age, some are older but the clientele is rather young and hip, from what he can see.

“So, what happened with Evan?”, Katrina asks when she comes back from the bathroom.

Mike sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

Katrina’s been his friend since he got hired at Pearson Hardman 4 years ago. She knows Rachel, she’s been at their apartment for diner a dozen times and has helped Mike (both with the legal and heart matters) through the whole divorce ordeal.

“He’s staying at Rachel’s parents since she had to leave for the weekend yesterday”, he replies somberly. “I called Theresa when we were waiting for the verdict and she told me to come pick him up tomorrow rather than late today. She told me not to worry, that it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disappointed Evan.”

“God, she’s such a bitch!”, Katrina exclaims.

“Yeah…”, Mike shakes his head as their waiter arrives with their order.

“Burgers and champagne”, he announces as he places the plates in front of them. “What are we celebrating?”, he asks with a smile.

“He won his first case in court tonight”, Katrina replies with a proud smile before Mike can open his mouth.

“Congratulations”, the man smiles genuinely at Mike who feels the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Lawyer.”, he adds before walking away.

“Cute, uh?”, Katrina wiggles her eyebrows.

“Shut up…”, Mike grumbles.

“So”, she picks up a fry and brings it to her mouth. “What’s your type?”

“What?”

“Your type”, she repeats. “I already know that you have poor taste in women, but what are you looking for in a man?”

“I’m not looking for anything or anyone, Kat’”, he sighs. “I’m here to celebrate our big win.”

“Come on”, she points at the bar. “The brunette or the blond?”

Mike reluctantly turns to look at where her finger is pointing and takes a quick look at the two men she’s targeted.

“Technically, both of them are blond, one is two or three shades darker”, he replies and turns back around.

“You’re not helping here”, Katrina rolls her eyes. “I like the older one, with the grey suit. He’s clearly pretending to be having a good time, but he’s sexy.”

Mike sighs and turns back around. She’s right, he is faking and clearly bored. But at least he’s trying and his interlocutor doesn’t seem to mind the fake smiles or he simply can’t tell they’re fake.

“He’s okay… I guess”, he says and grabs his glass. “Stop staring now.”

“Just okay?”, she laughs. “Come on now!”

“Can we just eat and drink and gossip? Please?”

“Alright, buzzkill”, she shakes her head with a smile and clinks her glass against his. “To your first win as junior partner and to many more to come!”


	2. Harvey

“You know you’re not allowed to stay the night”, Harvey mumbles and covers his mouth when an irrepressible yawn forces its way past his lips.

“Sorry…”, Sam mumbles back. “I think I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“You _think_? Trust me, you did”, Harvey sits up and chuckles. “You even goddamn snored in my ear.”

“Sorry…”

“Now get the hell up and leave”, Harvey steps off the bed and walks to the bathroom. “I want you gone when I’m done”, he turns around and adds with a smile.

Sam heaves a long sigh and rolls around on his back. Why the hell did he ever get involved with Harvey? He knew how this would go, Harvey had warned him: they would never be more than fuck buddies. But Sam thought that maybe Harvey would grow fond of him, would get attached and want more. Unfortunately, after 3 months of biweekly dining and fucking, he’s still not welcome the next morning… So yeah, he will get out of his air and wait for Harvey to call him, because that’s how it works. He will wait by the phone, send the occasional text message while Harvey will carry on with his life, fuck other men and maybe call him again. He knows he shouldn’t accept that, he should tell Harvey he can’t go on like that and find someone who really cares about him. But he really, _really_ likes Harvey and as long as this “thing” between them makes him more happy than unhappy, he won’t put an end to it. Now he only hopes he’ll find the courage to do it if it becomes necessary.

When Harvey steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered and now fully awake, he’s pleased to see that his bed has been cleared. The apartment is silent, Sam must have left. He hates to have to do that, to have to ask him to go and it’s been happening way too many times lately. Harvey knows exactly what it means. He sees it in Sam’s eyes when they fuck, he feels it in his kisses, in his touch… Sam likes him more than he should, more than he’s allowed to like him. Harvey knows he should put an end to whatever’s going on between them. Sam has become a regular, a sure thing and if it wasn’t for the occasional partners he still welcomes in his bed from time to time, he could almost call Sam his boyfriend. What started out as a casual fling is slowly – _dangerously_ – turning into a relationship and Harvey can’t let that happen.

They met 3 months ago at an event that took place at the Weill Cornell Brain and Spine Center, New York’s best neurosurgery center. Gregory King, founder and owner of the center was hosting a big party to inaugurate the new state-of-the-art ER department. As one of New York’s most praised neurosurgeons, Harvey was of course invited. Well, it wasn’t just because of his stellar reputation. Turns out Gregory King has been trying to convince Harvey to become his chief of neurosurgery for two years. The inauguration was a way of showing him what he was capable of, of showing him what kind of hospital he would be joining if he decided to accept his offer.

Barely an hour into the party, Harvey was already bored out of his mind and the champagne wasn’t any good. He was on his way to the lobby, ready to take a discreet French leave, when a handsome, younger man approached him. Sam King, the clinic’s owner son and soon-to-be gynecologist: a well-crafted brain in an equally well-crafted body. Harvey didn’t think twice when Sam boldly offered to go back to Harvey’s place to end the night on a sexy note.

Despite being very clear about his intentions the next morning (“ _I had a great time but you may now leave_ ”), Harvey should have known what was up when Sam called his office two days later. One-night stands are supposed to last one night. Two maybe, if really skilled (which Sam is). But definitely not three. Yet, he accepted the invitation to dinner, fucked Sam’s brains out that night, and this scenario has been repeating twice a week since then. Except Harvey’s the one doing the calling now and Sam comes running every time.

He likes Sam, he likes talking to him, laughing with him, they always have the best time together, in and out of bed, and being with someone 10 years younger than him makes him feel good about himself, makes him feel young. Also, it’s kind of nice to have someone like him on speed dial, better than having to go out to bars or parties and mingle and risk rejection. Not that it happens often though, Harvey’s really good at reading people and he knows a sure thing or a dead end when he sees one. Still, not having to start from square one every time he needs a good fuck is pretty neat. But Sam has become more than a good fuck, much more than a one-night stand and it wouldn’t be fair to keep this thing going. Not to his own principles, not to Sam. It’s not the first time he tells himself that, but this time he has to stick to his decision: he won’t call Sam again. End of story.

Harvey pours himself a glass of orange juice and settles in the living room to read the morning news on his iPad. The world is a pretty fucked up place right now and sometimes he wonders why it’s become a thing to start the day by reading all the awful things happening in the world. _Strange_. Then he thinks about his job, how he saves life, gives people second chances, and that makes him feel a bit better. A least he’s doing something good.

Speaking of which, he should get going because a quick look at his schedule tells him it’s going to be a long day.

He parks his tinted-windowed SUV on his spot right in front of his office building and chooses to use the stairs instead of the elevator to reach the second floor. He might have put his stamina to the test last night with Sam but he’s still far behind on his recommended cardio exercises.

“Morning”, Donna greets him with a knowing smile. She knows he had company last night, because, even though she knows his dates don’t usually stay the night, he weirdly always comes in a little later than usual on those mornings.

Donna basically knows everything about him and she likes to remind him of that. She’s been his friend for 15 years and his personal assistant for 3. They met during Harvey’s residency at the Kingsbrook Jewish Medical Center. She had just been hired as a nurse and they instantly hit it off. When Harvey left the hospital to open his private practice, he asked her to work for him. She agreed to follow him but she didn’t want to be a nurse anymore, her daughter was 5 and she was tired of the hospital’s long hours and night shifts. Since Harvey didn’t really need a nurse anyway, she became his personal assistant instead. Her job is to run Harvey’s professional life. She sets his meetings, makes sure he attends them, manages his PR and basically makes his life easier. And she’s awesome at it.

“Morning”, Harvey replies and grabs the stack of messages she’s already compiled for him. All yellow slips, which means not urgent. “Did Alison call?”, he asks, entering his office.

“It would have been a green note, so no”, Donna replies and rolls her eyes.

Harvey’s been waiting for Alison Holt, head of PR at the White House, to call for days. During his last year at the Kingsbrook Jewish Medical Center, he was offered an excellence grant for his stellar record and chose to use it to develop a new brain surgery protocol using 3D mapping. The results of his trial period were so conclusive that Harvey’s protocol was presented to the Health and Service department in Washington. Harvey’s career really took off then, he began to tour the US to present his protocol and convince his fellow neurosurgeons of its efficiency. Two years later, at only 40, he was named one of America’s top neurosurgeon and awarded another grant by the government to train neurosurgeons who would teach his protocol across the country. He didn’t operate on a “real” body for two years and when the emulation finally subsided, he decided to open a private practice. He still doesn’t do much surgery, he spends his time doing research and consults. People mostly come to see him for advice because of his reputation, and he chooses the patients he wants to operate on himself. Of course he selects the trickiest cases and has an impressive 90% success rate.

Alison Holt from the White House contacted him two weeks ago to ask him to talk in front of the Congress about his latest experiment: robot-assisted brain surgery. The principle isn’t new as robots have entered operation rooms in 2010, but it’s new in neurosurgery. And Harvey’s spent the last two years working with MedTech, a company specialized in medical technology, to built a robot capable of reaching parts of the brain most surgeons consider impossible to work on without risking some serious damage. Harvey’s convinced it will be capable of removing any kind of brain tumor once it’s developed and properly tested. But creating a medical robot takes time and costs millions. Which Harvey doesn’t have (even though he can’t really complain) and which MedTech isn’t ready to invest. So Harvey’s been lobbying a lot, meeting with influential and rich people (Gregory King from the Weill Cornell Brain and Spine Center was one of them), giving conferences in hospitals… until it reached the highest levels of the government. That’s when he got the call. Alison Holt said the President himself was very interested in his work and would like to know more in order to see if he could help with the funding. Hence the speech in front of the Congress. Hence the waiting. And Harvey hates waiting.

“You know you could call her”, Donna comes in his office and places a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thanks”, Harvey nods gratefully. “I won’t call her. She said she’d call back with a date so I’m going to wait for her call.”

“I think it’s stupid, not to mention childish, but I’m guessing you don’t give a damn about my opinion”, she smiles. “How’s Sam?”, she asks, gracefully taking a seat across from him.

“How’s Emily?”, Harvey deflects. He knows Donna doesn’t approve of the way she treats him or any of his conquests for that matter.

“She lost her first teeth last night”, Donna replies with a proud smile. “Stephen, who makes a great Tooth Fairy by the way, put a 5-dollar bill under her pillow. She was ecstatic!”

“God, you’re cheap!”, Harvey laughs. “I’ll give her 20 dollars next time I see her.”

“No you won’t”, she shakes her head. “She’s 5, she wouldn’t know what to do with all that money.”

“Hey, I’m her godfather, I can give her what I want.”

“Give it to me, I’ll put it in her trust fund”, Donna gets back up when her phone rings. “I’ll be right back.”

Harvey smiles at his computer and starts sorting out his emails.

“Harvey! It’s Alison Holt!”, Donna shouts from her desk.

“Put her through”, Harvey replies and takes a deep breath before picking up.

“Alison”, he says casually.

“First name basis, uh?”, Alison laughs. “How are you, _Harvey_?”, she asks.

“I’m perfect, thanks, how about you?”

“I’m good”, Alison replies, her tone businesslike all of a sudden. “I finally managed to sit down with the President and he’d like to wait a little before letting you do your presentation”, she explains and Harvey’s shoulder slump. “But”, she quickly adds and Harvey can almost hear her smile. “That’s because he’d like a presentation first.”

“What do you mean?”, Harvey clears his throat, not sure he completely understand what she’s saying. Or rather, he’s pretty sure he’s misunderstanding.

“I mean that Mr. Obama would like to meet you in person and hear about your robots”, she replies, apparently still grinning.

Harvey opens his mouth to speak but he finds himself at loss for words. The President wants to meet him _in person_? He exhales deeply and when he looks up, he finds Donna standing up at her desk and gaping at him. Apparently what she heard while spying on his (not so) private conversation left her speechless as well.

“Well, we can surely arrange that”, he composes himself and says. “Tell you what, I’m going to put you through my assistant so you can set a date.”

“Actually”, Alison says and he hears a couple of clicking sounds in the background. “I only have one available window and it’s next Monday morning at 9:30”, she deadpans.

“Then it’s a date”, Harvey replies and he waves at Donna who instinctively sits back down to check his calendar, he guesses.

He doesn’t really have a choice and he certainly can’t tell Alison that he isn’t available to fly to Washington but it’s Friday, which means that whatever he had scheduled for Monday needs to be canceled today.

“Great”, Alison says. “I’ll see you on Monday then. Do you need me to arrange for a car to pick you up from the airport or anything else?”

“Ah no, thank you, my assistant will take care of this”, he replies, a little stunned that the White House would go through the trouble of making these arrangements for him.

“Quick question”, Alison says a little awkwardly. “How long are you planning on staying in Washington?”

“Uh, I wasn’t really planning on _staying_ , why?”

“Oh, um, okay, I was just wondering… I mean, I, uh, _if_ you were to stay for, uh, say, um, a night, I know a lot of great restaurants and I-“

“That’s really nice of you”, Harvey cuts her, pulling her out of her misery. “But I’m a busy man and I can’t be away from the office for too long”, he explains, trying to let her down easy. Let it never be said that Harvey Specter isn’t a gentleman.

“Sure”, she clears her throat. “I understand.”

She must have done her homework and looked him up, she wouldn’t have so boldly offered to go out with him if she hadn’t, but he knows that what the Internet says about his private life often mentions that he is gay and a LGBT advocate. Either she missed that part or she did a sloppy work investigating him, so he decides that this deserves a little teasing.

“I’m guessing you’ve read the article in which I was asked to list my 10 favorite New York City restaurant?”, he chuckles. Yeah, he did an interview for the New Yorker once, about a year ago, and he was asked to do that. It’s still a mystery why but he gladly obliged because he loves eating out and in the end, narrowing his list of favorite places to only 10 actually proved difficult.

“Uh, I’m sorry, what?”, Alison asks and Harvey grins. Of course she didn’t read that article, of course she didn’t ask if he wanted to go out because of it.

“Well, you said you knew some great restaurants in Washington, I thought it was because of the article”, he offers.

“Oh”, is all Alison manages to say and he looks up at Donna who is glaring at him. _Female solidarity_ …

“Nevermind”, he says, glaring back at Donna. “I’ll see you on Monday, Alison.”

“Yeah”, Alison clears her throat. “Could you have your assistant email me the details of your flight and a copy of your ID so I can enter your name in Monday’s visitors list?”

“Sure thing”, Harvey nods. “Thank you for calling.”

“No problem, goodbye.”

“Bye”, Harvey says with a grin as he hangs up.

“You’re a jerk”, Donna says with a pointed look when she enters his office.

“And you should be planning my trip instead of insulting me”, Harvey deflects.

Donna narrows his eyes at him and heaves out an theatrical sigh before turning on her Louboutin’s heel.

“What should I wear?”, he gets up and walks to her desk. “I mean, I’m meeting the freaking President of the USA. Oh, and we should celebrate! Are you free tonight?”

“Wear your Gucci dark blue three-piece”, Donna replies, picking up her phone. “And yes, this deserves champagne, unfortunately, that won’t be with me”, she says, typing a number. “Stephen’s taking me to see Wicked.”

“Oh, right, it’s your anniversary”, Harvey winks. “Happy anniversary. I’ll bring you a gift from Washington.”

“You already bought me something”, she points at her diamond earrings.

“I didn’t-“, Harvey frowns before realizing that she bought these to herself on his behalf like she does whenever her birthday comes or when she thinks Harvey owes her a gift. “Then I’ll bring something for Stephen”, he rolls his eyes and walks back to his desk, a little disappointed that his best friend can’t celebrate this big news with him.

He can’t ask Sam, he needs to stick to his resolution and there’s nobody off the top of his head he’d like to celebrate meeting the President with. It’s a little depressing actually. He doesn’t have many friends because he works too much, has worked too much since med school, and also because he’s picky. He likes very, very smart people. Most people bore him.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought as Donna announces his first patient of the day, a woman whose life he literally saved a year ago who’s coming for her yearly check-up.

It’s almost 7pm when Donna enters his office with her coat on and a file in her hands.

“So”, she exhales sharply, her heels clinking as she approaches Harvey’s desk and puts the file down. “You’re boarding at 7 on Monday morning. Ray will be waiting for you at 6 to drive you to the airport. I’ve emailed Alison and she replied with a barcode that I printed and that you need to show at your arrival at the security check point at the White House”, she explains in one breath. “She also sent a list of things that you should _not_ be carrying with you, it’s all in the file. Like you asked, I rescheduled all your meetings before 4pm.”

“Thank you”, Harvey nods with a grateful smile. “I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

“Yep”, Donna smiles back. “Oh, I didn’t write that down but it goes without saying that I want an update on your meeting as soon as you’re out of the oval office, okay?”

“Of course”, he laughs. “Who else would I call?”

“I don’t know…”, Donna pauses and places a finger on her chin. “Sam, maybe?”

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Harvey rolls his eyes. “I have decided to not see him anymore.”

“Oh…”, Donna cocks her head to one side. “What happened?”

“I grew a pair”, he replies and makes a face.

“I’m glad you did, better late than ever!”, she laughs. “You know…”, she readjusts her bag on her shoulder. “… we already discussed this and I know you know it, but you’re going to have to let someone in, eventually. You can’t rely solely on me.”

“I know”, Harvey sighs. “Have fun tonight.”

“You too, don’t get too drunk, okay? Remember that you’re meeting your idol in 2 days.”

“He’s not my idol”, he rolls his eyes again and grabs the file Donna gave him. “See you on Monday, Don’.”

“Yeah, right”, Donna chuckles. “Have a good weekend.”

“You too”, Harvey whispers as he watches her walk away.

She’s right, she can’t be his only friend, she can’t be his assistant and his sidekick and his drinking buddy. She’s got her husband and her daughter. But she’s not totally right, he doesn’t necessarily need a boyfriend, he needs friends. _Period_. And he wishes he had one tonight because the thought of going out to celebrate such a milestone in his career is very, very depressing. Getting drunk at home isn’t fun either. There’s only one place he can go where he knows he won’t feel shitty, only one place where he’s always managed to meet guys and have a good time when going on his own.

He drives home and takes a quick shower before changing into a fresh dress shirt and suit. Something not too businesslike but elegant nevertheless. He doesn’t want to drive to the bar because he knows he’s going to drink but he doesn’t ask Ray to take him there, instead he calls him to tell him that he won’t need him tonight, that he can go home to his wife and teenage daughters. Ray deserves to go home and enjoy an early weekend (because yes, 8pm is early for someone working for Harvey) and that’s what Harvey chooses to think as the cab drives him to Chelsea. Yeah, that’s why he chose to call a cab, not because he’s ashamed of going out alone. Oh, sure, he could have made something up like telling Ray he was meeting someone there, but he didn’t feel like lying, lies are too much work. And he’s a goddamn grown man, he can take a cab.

When the car pulls up in front of the swanky bar, he hands the cabbie a couple of twenties and steps out. He’s not so sure about going out for a drink anymore and the prospect of listening to jazz music while nursing a glass of scotch in front of the fireplace in his condo now doesn’t sound so terrible. It sounds sad, yes, but how does going out alone to celebrate sound like? And why does being alone suddenly look so frightening, so terrible, so preoccupying? He never cared about anything else but his job and suits. Maybe that’s what almost dating someone does to you and that’s why he should never give it another shot.

Harvey reluctantly pushes the door open and the loud voices and laughs and glass clinking noises instantly make him feel better. He’ll have one glass of their most expensive scotch, maybe two, and take another cab home and that will be it. He deserves it and it’s no big deal, a lot of people go out for a glass on their own, don’t they? Heck, he himself does it all the time and never goes home alone, he can’t be the only one. The only difference tonight being that he doesn’t plan on bringing someone home or even flirting, he needs to lay low for a while after the Sam fiasco, plus he’s got to prepare for Monday’s very important meeting and that’s going to take all at least his weekend to do.

He walks to the bar and takes off his overcoat before moving to settle on one of the available barstools.

“What can I get you?”, a young man asks distractedly.

“A glass of Macallan 25, please.”

The young man looks up from the glasses he was piling up and gives him a quick onceover.

“I’m going to have to check with my manager, I’m not sure we carry-“

“You do”, Harvey cuts him. “You have 4 bottles of it in the cellar”, he adds with a smirk. He happens to know the man who runs Therapy and got the opportunity to visit their impressive cellar once. He’s had his eyes on the Macallan 25 for quite a while but he was waiting for a big occasion to order one.

“Well, then”, the young man nods, clearly doubtful. “I’ll be right back.”

“Connoisseur?”, Harvey hears a strong voice asking and he turns around to find a handsome man smiling at him.

“I guess you could say that”, he replies, smiling politely.

“Hi, my name’s Alexander”, the man, who must be in his late thirties, holds out his hand.

“Harvey”, Harvey shakes his hand.

The man, _Alexander_ , is impressively tall and quite handsome. He’s got blond curly hair and a very warm smile.

“I didn’t know they carried this exclusive Macallan”, he says, pointing at the stool next to Harvey’s with a quizzical nod.

“Please”, Harvey motions for him to sit down. “Yeah, they have a very nice cellar.”

“So let me guess, Harvey…”, Alexander narrows his eyes. “Lawyer?”

“Ah no”, Harvey chuckles. “Not at all. Ugh”, he grimaces.

“I’m a lawyer”, Alexander makes an offended face.

“Sorry”, Harvey chuckles and turns his head to the bar as a napkin and a crystal glass are put in front of him.

“You were right”, the young bartender nods as he opens the pricey bottle of scotch.

“I’m always right”, Harvey raises an eyebrow and watches him pour the amber liquid. “Make it double”, he adds.

“Double Macallan and always right?”, Alexander snorts. “Are you sure you’re not a lawyer?”

“I’m a doctor”, Harvey replies.

“I’ll have one too”, Alexander tells the bartender. “What’s your specialty?”, he asks, opening his suits jacket.

“Neurosurgery”, Harvey replies flatly and he brings his glass to his lips. _God_. This has got to be the best thing that’s ever touched his lips.

Alexander isn’t exactly hard on the eyes and he’s a lawyer so he must not be completely dumb but Harvey hadn’t planned on making small talk tonight. And he doesn’t like lawyers very much, they’re like shrinks, they like to get to the bottom of things and they spend their life trying to impart their so-called wisdom on you.

“Wow!”, Alexander exclaims, raising his glass. “Where do you work?”, he asks and holds up a hand. “Let me guess… Expensive suit, expensive tastes”, he says, eyeing Harvey’s glass. “Mount Sinai?”

“Nope”, Harvey shakes his head, suddenly regretting having ordered a double because if he hadn’t, he’d be out of the door in a minute. “Private practice”, he adds because he has no patience for a guessing game.

“Impressive…”

 _Yeah_. Maybe he should have stayed home. But then he wouldn’t have tasted the Macallan 25.

He doesn’t want to be rude, he’s approached men at bars a thousand times and he knows how it works, how it’s supposed to go, but he really doesn’t feel like talking to a stranger tonight.

“Look”, he says, hating himself a little bit. “I don’t want to be rude but I didn’t come here to mingle, I-“

“Oh”, Alexander cuts him and clears his throat. “It’s okay, I get it”, he gives a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and grabs his glass. “Enjoy your night”, he adds, raising his glass with a short nod.

Harvey exhales deeply and takes another swig of the delicious scotch. Thank god Alexander was quick on the uptake because it doesn’t feel good to have to do what he just did, and as good as the scotch is, the mood is now completely ruined. He wasn’t in the best frame of mind when he entered the bar, but now he wishes he could snap his fingers and be magically transported back to his condo. That’s not fair because he was supposed to celebrate, not feel like a lonely jerk…

He downs the rest of his glass and all but slaps a 50-dollar bill on the pristine counter before walking to the bathroom.

The bar is pretty animated and it has significantly filled up since he came in 20 minutes ago, so he has to elbow his way through a crowd of loud young men to reach the quieter part of the large room where people are sitting down and having dinner.

He spots a young man alone at a table, which displays two emptied plates and a champagne bucket. It makes a pretty sad picture: the young man refilling his glass and nobody to cheer with. At least Harvey’s not the only lonely man here tonight.

When Harvey comes out of his stall (where he spent a little more time than he usually does because he replied to a couple of emails), the young man from the table is washing his hands. He’s got his coat on and looks ready to leave. Harvey has no idea why, maybe that’s because he’s bored, but he suddenly wants to know the story behind the man. Was he stood up? Did he break up with his significant other? Did his boyfriend break up with him (or girlfriend, who knows, Therapy is a gay bar but he knows a lot of straight people who go there)? The man doesn’t look sad, though, he looks tired. He’s about Harvey’s height, definitely younger, and he has a decent fashion sense if his fitted overcoat is any indication. He’d need a lesson or two on how to style his hair but he’s got nice, almost delicate features. And very nice blue eyes. He’s not totally Harvey’s style but he’s close enough. _Why the hell is Harvey thinking about that? No mingling!_

“Champagne wasn’t any good?”, he asks with a smirk when their eyes meet in the impressively large mirror overhanging the sinks.

“What?”, the man frowns and grabs a couple of tissues to wipe his hands.

“I saw you in there, drinking champagne on your own.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t on my own, I was with a friend but she was called and had to go.”, the man stutters a little and Harvey’s pretty sure he can see the beginning of a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, okay”, he nods. _Boring story_. He really thought there would be more to it. “So you were left on your own to finish the bottle?”, he asks because he somehow can’t leave it at rest.

The man looks up from his hands and raises an intrigued eyebrow.

“No, I didn’t finish it, I…”, he folds the tissues and throws them in the basket. “Why are you asking?”, he asks and leans against the sink.

“Nevermind. Sorry”, Harvey shakes his head and brings his attention back to the cold water running on his hands.

“I’m Mike”, the man extends a freshly dried hand.

“Uh”, Harvey looks up and makes a face. “I’m Harvey”, he adds and holds up his soaked hands.

The man chuckles and hands him a couple of tissues.

“Thanks”, Harvey nods gratefully.

“I was about to leave, but you and your friend can have the rest of my bottle of champagne”, the man, _Mike_ , offers with a teasing smile.

“My friend?”, Harvey raises an eyebrow.

“The one you were sitting at the bar with”, Mike replies, adjusting the lapels on his coat.

Harvey cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes at the younger man. He did not see this one coming. First of all, he’s never approached anyone in a bathroom before and he’s been to some very shady places. Second of all, he’s usually the one doing the observing, the one locating a potential prey and planning the attack. Apparently, Mike did the observing tonight.

“The lawyer?”, Harvey makes a disgusted face. “He’s not my friend. He didn’t stay.”

“What’s wrong with lawyers?”, Mike asks with a snort.

“Would you mind if we took this outside of the bathroom?”, Harvey throws the balled-up tissues in the bin. Not that there’s anything wrong with this bathroom, it’s clean and nice, but he feels a little stupid ~~flirting~~ doing small talk in such an intimate place.

The offer seems to throw Mike off, and Harvey understands Mike got him wrong as he seems to be debating whether or not he should agree to follow him wherever Harvey suggests they “take this”. Replaying his question in his mind, Harvey quite frankly can see the underlying proposition contained in his very innocent suggestion.

“Where?”, the young man asks, visibly still unsure.

“Back in the restaurant”, Harvey quickly replies because he isn’t supposed to take anyone home and Mike doesn’t seem completely on board anyway.

“Oh, well, I’m leaving so…”, Mike says and averts his gaze but doesn’t move.

“Did you have someth-, somewhere in mind?”, Harvey asks out of habit and because he realizes that despite his resolutions, he cannot let a chance to have a good time pass. He’s got two full days to work on his meeting with President Obama, he will just need to make sure he doesn’t oversleep tomorrow morning.

“No, but _you_ seem to”, Mike replies, his eyes looking everywhere but at Harvey.

He didn’t ditch the subject, didn’t deflect and didn’t leave the room and even though he looks and sounds very hesitant, there’s a challenge in his retort and Harvey knows he’s won.

“Well, I suggested that we talked outside of this room”, Harvey takes a step forward as someone enters the bathroom. “But now you mention it, I do have somewhere in mind”, he adds, his voice lower so the intruder doesn’t have a chance to hear them. “And I was about to leave too anyway.”

“Okay then, after you”, Mike gulps and gestures towards the door.

Harvey raises a teasing eyebrow and moves to swing the bathroom door open. He walks to the bar entrance without a glance for Mike, leaving the younger man plenty of time to change his mind and back out. The place is still packed and he almost gets a drink spilled over him when he passes the large group of people waiting at the bar. Once outside he takes a couple of steps to the right and stops and turns. Mike’s right behind him, a slightly less hesitant look on his face.

“Taxi?”, Harvey asks.

“Uh yeah”, Mike nods sharply.

Harvey hails a cab and gives his address to the rather unpleasant driver. They don’t talk at all during the ride to Harvey’s apartment but Harvey doesn’t mind, they’re not supposed to. He’s familiar with the relative awkwardness of these rides, which he and Donna call “the reverse walk of shame”.

When they finally reach their destination, Harvey pays for the fair and guides Mike towards his building with a tilt of the head. He makes sure to practically run through the lobby so that his doorman doesn’t have time to greet him, he doesn’t want Mike to know his name. It happened once, two years ago, with a guy who stalked him for an entire year after a one-night stand, showing up unannounced at his private practice every so often. In the end, it got so bad he had to get a restraining order.

They don’t take his private elevator, not because he doesn’t want to show off (he’s always up for that) but because that’s giving too much information to a complete stranger. He never takes his “dates” up with his private elevator. What he’s doing tonight is basically routine for him except for one tiny detail: Mike and him didn’t exactly flirt at the bar, so the purpose of going back to his place isn’t as clear as it usually is. Which is going to make their entrance in Harvey’s condo a little weird. Harvey isn’t going to offer him a drink because a drink means talking and talking means asking questions and answering them and that means starting to care about the other person for something more than sex and that can’t happen with one-night stands. It happened with Sam and if that’s not a lesson to be learned, Harvey doesn’t know what is. So yeah, it’s basically routine except that he can’t be 100% sure Mike and him are on the same page, and the realization hits him hard as he’s about to unlock his front door.

“I hope you’re not mistaken”, he says, hoping it sounds less hesitant that he feels. “It’s not open house”, he adds with a smirk.

It’s not really subtle and definitely not even remotely funny but he couldn’t think of anything else to clear any doubt the younger man might have about why he’s here.

“Of course”, Mike nods very (too) seriously. “I’m not looking to buy”, he adds and raises a challenging eyebrow.

Harvey lets out a discreet snort and unlocks his door, swinging it open to let Mike in. He doesn’t turn on the lights, Mike doesn’t need to see his place, only his bedroom, and the city lights provide way enough light for them to navigate around the condo securely.

“Bedroom’s this way”, Harvey says, pointing to the right and drops his keys in a bowl by the door.

He watches as Mike walks the long corridor leading to the main room and he tries to craft a quick plan. Mike’s visibly on board, that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about. He’s willingly walking to Harvey’s bedroom so there’s only one thing he needs to plan: how to initiate physical contact. It’s not even a question when you’ve flirted at a bar, club or restaurant and kissed in the elevator, which is what usually happens _before_ moving things to someone’s home.

Harvey’s going to have to improvise and it’s not really his forte.

He doesn’t have to think about it for too long, though, as the moment he enters his room, Mike grabs him by the lapels and pulls him into a searing kiss.


End file.
